Feeling lost in a sea of stripper style and bad plastic surgery? In this ELLE exclusive excerpt of Simon Doonan's new book, let the master of fashion instruct you on how to say no to ho and yes to eccentric glamour!

You run into an old acquaintance. You are unable to recall her name. Is it Eva? Yes! But, having undergone some kind of grotesque transformation, dear old Eva is barely recognizable. She used to look like Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. Now, thanks to her fake hair extensions, fake nails, fake spray tan, fake lips, and fake boobs, she looks like a cross between Britney Spears, Mrs. Gastineau (the mother), and a blow-up doll. "Goodness me!" you manage to say, "Don't you look stunning! I mean it. I'm totally stunned."

Many of your peers have opted—with the help of liposuction, collagen, and a great deal of sass—for the Eva route. As a result, they now resemble a bunch of aging Bratz dolls. That boobs 'n' bleach 'n' Botox makeover is standard for any woman seeking to reinvent herself.

Call me crazy, but I believe that there might just be more to being a woman than prancing around dressed up like a Stepford blow-up doll. With a missionary zeal, I implore you gals to seek out eccentrically glamorous alternatives to the ubiquitous cheapness and tackiness that currently pass for personal style. Banish the badonkadonkdonk! Say no to porno chic! Say no to ho! And yes to Eccentric Glamour.

`Eccentric' glamour is key. Developing an idiosyncratic sense of style is your only defense against this tidal wave of lady lumps, hoochie hot pants, and skanky halter tops. Embracing the life of a glamorous eccentric is easier than you would imagine. The choices are not infinite. There are only three roads—Gypsy, Existentialist, or Socialite—that lead to the kingdom of eccentric glamour.

THE GYPSY

Are you a hazy, lazy, rustic, poetic, ethereal free spirit? Or maybe you always wanted to be but were too scared to let loose in case you ended up going berserk on LSD and jumping out of a window. Now is the time to find your inner Janis and let her rip.

There is much to recommend the Gypsy lifestyle. First, it's incredibly romantic. You can be wild. You can be tempestuous. You can be Carmen. While Existentialist chicks feel obliged to imbue everything with solemnity and meaning, you Gypsies can shriek and bite the air—raaar!—just because you feel like it. You can be uninhibited. Imagine yourself whirling around a campfire in a flounced cheesecloth skirt, flashing your eyes, not to mention those vintage embroidered Victorian bloomers you found at the flea market, at a group of swarthy adoring monosyllabic blokes with gold teeth. What could be more dreamy? But the Gypsy lifestyle is more than just a rehash of groovy '60s counterculture ideas. Within this group there are endless variations and genres.

The Euro-glam Gypsy: A throwback to the rich YSL hippies of the early 1970s—think Marisa Berenson or Talitha Getty—the Euro-glam Gypsy is a show-off who loves ethnic fabrics, finger cymbals, appliqués, rickrack, and fringe. A celebrity example? Jade Jagger is the contemporary queen of the Euro-glam Gypsies. The daughter of Mick and Bianca has built a whole brand identity simply by floating about her house in Ibiza rimming her eyes with kohl and festooning her walls with sari fabrics. Fashion models often become Euro-glam Gypsies when they pass their sell-by date: '90s glamazons Marpessa and Helena Christensen are good examples. What does she wear? At the time of writing, Matthew Williamson and Duro Olowu are the Euro-glam Gypsy's favorite designers. A major flea market hag, she is always scouring the stalls for a vintage Ossie Clark or Thea Porter or Zandra Rhodes.

The Isadora Gypsy: The Isadora Gypsy is named after Isadora Duncan, that fabulously crazy chick who, at the beginning of the last century, leaped around barefoot in the dirt waving a piece of chiffon and, as a result, invented the concept of modern dance. Like her namesake, the Isadora Gypsy has a strong theatrical sense and loves dressing up: She wears panne velvet and vintage lace and medievalish robes and turbans à la Edith Sitwell. She adores massive rings, beading, and dévoré velvet. Her dream is to find a vintage Fortuny frock at Goodwill. The fact that this will never happen feeds her overall sense of romantic disappointment. Virginia Woolf is her favorite writer, olive green is her preferred hue. As a result, she is prone to bouts of melancholy. While the Euro-glam is knocking back champagne at Art Basel in Miami, the Isadora Gypsy is far more likely to be found contemplating the translucency of an art nouveau vase on the Portobello Road. Cate Blanchett and Tilda Swinton have an Isadora/Existentialist thing going on, which makes them the darlings of the high-fashion monde.

The Green Gypsy: If sustainability and fair trade are more important to you than Gypsy glamour—i.e., you prefer hemp flip-flops over towering espadrilles by Christian Louboutin—you may well be a Green Gypsy. Formerly known as the Birkenstock Gypsy, the Green Gypsy is a fast-growing category in Hollywood. Inspired by Green celebs like Leo and Brad, more and more young lasses—think Kate Hudson, Liv Tyler—are looking for environmentally responsible, organic garments. Warning: Try to be ruthlessly objective when buying and accessorizing green garments. Do not sacrifice style for sustainability. At the end of the day, a burlap tabard is just a burlap tabard. Unless you team your tabard with a pair of cruelty-free Stella McCartney black patent spikes, you run the risk of looking as if you are an extra in a suburban dinner theater production of The Canterbury Tales. Psych alert: While the Euro-glam Gypsy tends toward superficiality, the Green Gypsy, with her solar panels, her malfunctioning compost toilet, and her constant anxieties about the size of her carbon footprint, is crucifyingly earnest. If you enter this category, please try not to become a dogmatic bore.

The Hollywood Gypsy: The patron saint of Hollywood Gypsies is Ali MacGraw. You thought I was going to say Stevie Nicks, didn't you? Miss Nicks, thanks to her love of floaty chiffon and unstructured choreography, is really more of an Isadora Gypsy. The Hollywood Gypsy, as personified by Miss MacGraw, is the well-scrubbed Malibu version of Gypsy style. In her crisp white caftans and discreet jewelry, yoga-loving Ali is the acceptable face of hippie, a woman with alternative ideals, a sizable bank account, and no body odor or armpit hair. The biggest plus for Gypsies of all stripes? Gypsy style is a great look for larger girls. Off-the-shoulder Carmen blouses, embroidered taffeta skirts, and Victorian piano shawls, while great on a skinny gal, also work wonders for the chunky, glamorous eccentric.

THE SOCIALITE

While it is true that Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Babe Paley, and CZ Guest are the primordial ooze from which all subsequent Socialites emerged, today's Socialite is any gal—a manicurist, a celeb, a dog groomer, a bank manager, an anchor lady—who loves a well-cut skirt, a Chanel watch (real or fake), and a crucifyingly high heel. Today's Socialite can be highborn or common as muck.

Of all the three styles, the Socialite has the least amount of eccentricity. Her style has a classic panache. She herself is not particularly creative. She leaves that to the Puccis, Valentinos, Oscar de la Rentas, and Karl Lagerfelds of the world, or the knocker-offers thereof. She's a follower, not a leader. But let's not be too hard on her: The Socialite is invariably a scintillating and idiosyncratic conversationalist.

While she may lack daring in her wardrobe choices, the glamorously eccentric Socialite has a wicked wit. The best thing about her: The Socialite is the world's leading patroness of la mode. Whether shopping at Strawberry or Chanel, she supports fashion designers by spending an enormous amount of money on clothing. As a bonus, she abhors the slutty ho trend. The Socialite attracts men by cultivating her allure, not by flashing her breasts or jumping in and out of chauffeured vehicles sans panties. Despite the commitment to that old-school Kennedy manicured glamour, it would be a gigantic mistake to assume that white chicks have some kind of monopoly on Socialite style. The fact is that ladies of color constitute a huge chunk of the Socialite demographic. Celebrity examples? Mary J. Blige is a label-lovin' Socialite. So is Foxy Brown. So—when she's wearing her ladylike Marc Jacobs outfits—is Lil' Kim. Yes, ladies of color have the Socialite's unapologetic stop-at-nothing passion for designer clothing.

Skin tone aside, Socialite style is ultimately about confidence. Unlike the Existentialist or the Gypsy, the Socialite dresses to communicate power, competence, and order. Socialite style is, therefore, the best style for professional women. Let me rephrase that: Socialite style, with its carefully crafted cocktail of minimal eccentricity and designer fashion, is the only style for professional women. Dressing for work has always been a minefield of complexity and symbolism. There is a codified language that changes from milieu to milieu. Fashion, your personal style, can either blast you through the glass ceiling or hurl you on the unemployment heap. Nobody, and I really do mean nobody, wants a colonoscopy performed by an Existentialist lady in an avant-garde Comme des Garçons humpback dress. The profession of law has similar constraints: Nobody wants his or her will drawn up by a Gypsy wearing armfuls of Morrocan bracelets and a plunging Roberto Cavalli leopard-print, silk-chiffon minicaftan. The bottom line? Eccentricity must be kept at a minimum, or credibility will suffer. If your profession entails an iota of responsibility for the health or finances of others, you must minimize your visual quirks. You can freak out on your own time.

Existentialism, for the ignorant reader, was a philosophy developed by Jean-Paul Sartre in midcentury Paris. The basic idea was that life did not make any sense and that everything was chaotic and contingent. Insights into the utter meaninglessness of it all came in bursts of what Monsieur Sartre called nausea. Like most French people, Jean-Paul was something of a misanthrope, declaring famously that "hell is other people." Sartre and his lover Simone de Beauvoir, with their angrily belted outerwear and grumpy expressions, were not the most fun people on earth. They did, however, give birth to the beatniks, who begat all subsequent supercool, edgy style movements: punk, grunge, downtown chic. Even the black-clad fashionistas of the '90s owe their look to Jean-Paul and de Beauvoir. Merci beaucoup! This is the edgy, belligerent, provocative, creative, innovative face of eccentric glamour.

While the Evas of this world adorn themselves for the delectation of the opposite sex, the Existentialist dresses for one person and one person only: herself. Prominent Existentialists include Carine Roitfeld (editor-in-chief of French Vogue), Chrissie Hynde, and British art provocateur Tracey Emin. There are no A-list celeb Existentialists: Jennifer Connelly and Charlotte Gainsbourg are about as close as it gets. The Existentialist is an angry rebel who eschews the superficiality of contemporary culture. If she is unfortunate enough to catch any of the frothy fashion Oscar coverage on TV, the typical Existentialist experiences a strong desire to join the Taliban. Yes, Existentialists are a tad scary. Gypsies are often frightened by them, and with good reason. While the good-humored Gypsy loves to run through the woods barefoot and sell toe rings to passing hikers, the Existentialist is busy on the shady side of the forest gathering poisonous mushrooms while plotting the overthrow of the government.

Don't worry, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to embrace your inner Existentialist. And you don't have to wear a monocle or become a German Expressionist-ollecting lesbian. (But don't rule it out.) Agonizing about whether or not you are an Existentialist is a waste of time. The truth is that you either are or you aren't.

The Existentialist Gamine: This is the sweet face of Existentialism. She is Audrey Hepburn at the beginning of Funny Face, a bookworm in black ballet slippers, black turtleneck, and black toreador pants. Her severe appearance suggests that she is interested in the world of philosophy and ideas while simultaneously challenging the self-indulgent glamour of Socialite style. Note that I said "suggests." Herein lies the magic of the Existentialist style: It's the perfect combination of mystery and implied intellect. In other words: There's nothing quite like a black turtleneck to suggest an inner life, even where there may be none.

The Rive Gauche Existentialist: The elder sister of the Existentialist Gamine, this is a great look for gals whose ripening figures no longer fit into those toreador pants. Like Simone de Beauvoir and Simone Signoret, the Rive Gauche Existentialist is often named Simone, or maybe she has a weird spelling to her name. A beatnik and a thinker, she's severe, intimidating, and quite mysterious. In her black Lanvin trench coat and her Alaïa leather kilt, she always manages to look like a member of the French Resistance.

The Existentialist Garçonne: Courageous, self-invented women have always done it. Garbo did it in the '30s. So did Marlene. Punk girls did it in the 1970s. Pat Benatar did it in the 1980s. Madonna did it in the 1990s. I'm talking about boy chic. Butching it up. Dressing in drag. It would be logical to assume that the wearing of men's clothing might well detract from a gal's femininity. But it can often be the opposite. Elegant man drag enhances rather than detracts from the femininity of the wearer. For reasons too obvious to state, this Existentialist Garçonne look is big with certain gay women: Ellen is the big celebrity proponent of this style. Paradoxically, she looks much more girly in those nifty Sammy Davis Jr. suits of hers than she would if dressed in a ruched crepe de chine prom frock. Looking for a nonlesbian example of the Existentialist Garçonne? Diane Keaton is single-handedly carrying the flag for this look among straight celebrity women. Her tailored English public school chic—more Waugh than Rat Pack—is so at odds with the prevailing West Coast blow-up doll aesthetic that fashion pundits think she is insane and put her on those what-was-she-thinking? pages of the tabloids. Fortunately, she does not seem to care and continues to groove on her inner Garçonne.

The Existentialist Ghoul: Paging Nina Hagen, Lene Lovich, and Siouxsie Sioux! Exene Cervenka! Ari Up! Diamanda Galás! These are the kind of women who, in previous centuries, were burned at the stake. Adopting this kind of scary look—Gothic maquillage, electrocution hair in vivid colors, historicist costume with sadomasochistic accessories—limits your social interaction to those who are dressed exactly as you are and is therefore recommended only for the very young. Existentialist Ghouls have become quite rare. At the time of writing, Amy Winehouse is the only contemporary example I am able to conjure. It is my sincere hope that I may prompt a few young ladies to follow La Winehouse—we're talking style, not self-destructive behavior—and take this courageous route.

Now go forth and shop! Once you have designated yourself—Socialite, Existentialist, or Gypsy—all aspects of your life will become simpler. You will be selecting garments that match your new sense of self. Your shopping trips will lose that dreadful disheartening random feeling. You will no longer be frantically chasing trends. You will no longer be making desperate attempts to understand the current fashion scene and see where you fit in. Instead you will be cherry-picking from the racks with a very specific mandate. And you will always find what you are looking for. Say no to ho! And yes to eccentric glamour!